I made this for my best friend, my other half. This is the story of our nonfiction life.
Expect OOCs. Set in alternate universe.
Recollection
The morning breeze touches my skin as I opened the door to find you. The sand looks enticing as I began to take off my flip-flops. The grains stick to my feet as I take a step, colliding against the small waves created by the sea. A tiny shell is washed off from the shore, my first time seeing a real one in my ten years of age. I look down to pick it up with my bare hands but before I do so, you startled me by grasping my wrist in a light way. You look at my hand, examining it thoroughly. You always tell me to take care of my hand and I mentally apologized for my carelessness. I smiled at the look of seriousness in your face. I hope that you are not mad. My mind is preoccupied with random thoughts as you pointed at the sky. Light orange is painted at the sky, sunrise. At the breakfast table, you put two strawberries on my pancake (the other one is supposed to be yours) and syrup on top with no butter. I smiled as I continue eating. You really know me.
The sound of violin and piano echoed to the room. It is our ninth time trying to record Ave Maria by Schubert with minimal mistakes. You never get annoyed at me for failing to hit the crescendo part neatly. I nearly jump at joy when I heard your sound of approval, indicating that our last try is success. Immediately, you hand me another piece as we begin to practice again. You noted how my stance become a little stiff so you suggest to have a short break. Our next piece is a sad song, I know you pick it because I am engrossed with the anime Romeo x Juliet and it is the theme song of that show. Few minutes later, we continue our practice. Time flies so fast when I enjoy it with you. The way your fingers brushed on the black and white keys as you hit the note, how could I forget them? The patience it took to teach me the wonders of music and violin, I admire you for that.
I cannot remember how many concerts we watched online. It is too many to mention, we have different unforgettable experience every clips. We dream to study in Juilliard together, an unreachable goal but still, we both hope for it. I admit that I am not really interested in music, not until I get to know you.
I slam the door hard, I am angry, betrayed. Yes, we always fight all the times but not like this. I thought you trust me, then why it is like you believe her? I never do anything; she just comes in front of our house, asking me to come out. I am not the one who started it. She asks me to stay away from you. I know that you have a relationship, but we are best of friends' right? I just answer it the way I think it is. I did not even lay a hand on her. She even slaps me but I neither I flinch or fight back. You can't even stare at me in the eyes; do you hate me that much? Is this the end?
I ambush you at your home. I want to reconcile, but you run straight to your room, locking the door. Unfortunately, I have a duplicate key of your room, courtesy of your little sister. The mess in your room is cannot be compared with mine. Everything is everywhere. I don't even know where to sit so I sit on the tiled floor. You never bother to acknowledge my presence. Instead, you buried yourself reading a book. I observe you and I can't suppress my laugher. You stare at me peculiarly and I point at your book: it is upside down. You cover your face with the pillow to hide your embarrassment. Reluctantly, I start to speak. You may be stubborn but I'm not me for nothing. I ask you if you're still mad at me. Your eyebrows move upward, now I'm puzzled. You return my question with the same question. Immediately I stated a big 'never' with full of conviction. Silence engulfs us as no one dares to speak. We eye each other as we laugh together, with you, commenting that we are both idiots.
You inform me months later that you are moving out to the city. Even if I am quite disappointed with the news, I still bid you goodbye with my wide smile that only you can see. Distance never serves as a barrier, we both talk to each other be it on the phone of video call. You visit your previous home from time to time thus, an avenue for us to catch up for the things we haven't done. You are like my personal diary, always entertaining my rants and complaints. You know how to make me smile and cry. Months pass and it is unusual that you never visit the province. I feel puzzle at first but you assure me that everything is alright. I believe in that.
The next time we meet, you are lying in a hospital bed. You still have the silly smile as always. I force to stop my urge to cry and hit you. I stand still. I have many things to say but none of it comes from my lips. I hate times like this. Realization still doesn't hit me, not until I walk out of the door to buy a drink, not until unopened bottle slip from my hands. It slowly sinks in to me what is happening. You are suffering; I couldn't even do anything to ease that. You bear the pain alone; I'm not even there to support you. My tears are starting to flow but I never let it. I shouldn't cry for there is still hope.
Every week I come to visit you, you get weaker and weaker as violet tint appear around your frame. We talk about random things, anything under the sun. You tell me your dreams; you tell me what you will do once you get out of the hospital. I even promise that I'll pass the mathematics test with a high grade. You teased me saying that it's really impossible. A week later, I proudly show you my test paper and you are amuse with my childishness. If I can do it then you can turn impossible to possible things too. It is like we're just referring to your sickness as flu. Your orbs shine as I take that you accept my challenge. It's like the fact that you only have months to enjoy life is just a fallacy.
20:27—I am surprise that you call me all of a sudden. I am on my way home from my classmate's house to talk about the Investigation Project in our Physics. My phone's battery is only 36%, I'm afraid that it'll get drain before I arrive home. You ask how I am. It is weird for I am not used to hear you say that. Normally, you'll start a conversation with no formality such as that. My heart starts to frantically beat as you ask me if I am happy. That's not very you, indeed. I figure that something is wrong so I inquired. I heard your hoarse voice on the phone, as you chuckled. I know that you are in pain but I never bother to question. You speak to me like you are going far away, like I'll never see you again. You tell me to smile, to be happy, to be strong. The final words you utter keeps repeating inside my head like a broken recorder. Drop the call, you demand. Who would have thought that it that is the last request from you?
I know what happen five hours after that. No tears are shed, I smile. Passing days are just like every normal day. It's like nothing happened. There are times when I spend hours staring at the violin, picturing the way you hold it with your delicate hands. I still love strawberries above the pancakes. I'm still taking care of my hands. I still listen to classical music. But I never tried playing violin after that. I gave up Juilliard. I stop ranting. I stop acting childish. I don't know what to do. I feel alone, box out. How I wish this is just a nightmare. There are many things that I regret. I regret being absent in those times. I regret not thanking you. I regret not being able to say back that you are also my bestfriend, my other half. I'm sorry; I really want to fulfil my promise to play the piece we practiced years ago. But I can't, I won't. Not without you.
I know returning is not possible. Now, you're gone. Things will never be like before.
END
~Chocolat a'la folie